Questions for Rumors
by Control Room
Summary: Henry heard a rumor he'd like to clear up. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for Joey.


"Hey, Joey, can I talk to you for a second?" Henry asked, leaning against the door of the man's office. "It's just a couple of questions. Personal ones."

"Of course, you can ask away," the man replied, hardly looking up from papers on his desk. "Come on in."

"Alright," Henry shrugged one shoulder, entering, closing and locking the door behind himself. Joey's head raised at the noise of the lock clicking into place. He rose an eyebrow. "Just for your information, I locked it on purpose, Joey."

"May I know as to why?" Joey questioned with that singular twinkle in his voice. Henry smiled and shook his head, his wavy blond hair bouncing a moment behind. Joey frowned. Henry came around his desk to firmly plant himself directly before the wheelchair bound man. Joey's hands twitched before gripping his armrests, tapping on them a rapid rhythm. He blushed when the silence grew unbearable. Henry let a smile slowly cover his lips. Joey huffed. "What is it, Stein? I'm pretty swamped at the momen-"

"I heard a rumor," Henry casually began. Joey's mouth opened ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing. Henry grinned, leaning down slightly. "Are we doing last names now? Well, it was about you, Mr. Drew."

"How interesting," Joey chuckled, motioning toward his desk. "As you can see, many rumors can circulate about a man who sits in his office and writes paychecks for lazy and nosy workers. Was there anything serious you wanted to tell me?"

"The rumors about you were concerning me, Johan."

Color drained from the chicano's face.

"W-well, it, ah, could have been anything, Henry," he stuttered, color returning to his face in the form of a blush. "I'm certain that it may be that I pay you more, which is true, because without you pouring your heart and soul into the toons, there would be no Bendy the Dancing Demon. Even ten men can't replace you."

"No, no, that's not it," Henry smugly continued, goaded on by the blush. "It was a far more… intimate matter."

"Oh, was it?" Joey fidgeted, his hand brushing against the rainbow heart pin on his lapel. His breathing jumped a little. "C-can I inquire as to what this rumor is?"

"That you have some…" Henry smirked, leaning closer, watching Joey try to swallow a lump in his throat, "some sort of… obsession with me."

"… of course not," Joey's voice broke and wavered, quiet and frightened. Henry hummed, twirling his hand around Joey's tie. His breath hitched again. "Mr. Stein, it's as you said - just a rumor."

"Ah, Drew, you're a terrible liar," Henry sniggered. Joey flushed, Henry very purposefully putting his hand on the thin man's thigh. Red inched up Joey's neck. "It may not be an obsession, hm? An… infatuation, perhaps?"

"N-no, no, I'm…" Joey gulped, Henry moving closer, so close he could feel his breath on his skin. "I'm fine."

"Oh, are you, now?" Henry was teasing him at this point, a shadow over his fair face. His hand moved up Joey's leg. Joey let out a hushed prayer, trembling and trying to quell the shaking. "And what if I kissed you?"

"Oh god…" Joey breathed, covering his dark red face, putty in Henry's grip. Henry chuckled, low and right in front of him. He pulled down Joey's hands. The man looked at him with a fear in his eyes. He bit his lip before sighing and closing his eyes, lowering his head in shame. Henry frowned. "Henry, d-don't get the wrong idea, this does not affect our relationship at work, or at home, or anywhere, or at all. It doesn't exist. You don't care about me. I d-don't have feelings for you. Capiche? The idea of us doesn't exist. Alright?"

"Not really," Henry tersely answered. Joey scowled, still red. "I kinda wanna see how you'd look if I fucked you open on your desk own, you trying to keep it down but people catching your voice through the vents, you moaning and begging, hmm… 'oh, _Henry_ , **harder** , _please_ …' sounds about right to me."

"Stop," Joey hushed him, turning redder. Henry grinned and leaned even closer. "Henry, stop…."

"I kinda like you this way, all flustered and maroon," Henry snickered. Joey groaned, leaning his head back, exposing his neck. Henry eyed it, a smirk blossoming. He licked it, and Joey gasped, hissing something in Spanish. "Delicious… mmm, and all for me, ain't it?"

"Henry…!"

"That's right, say my name."

"Henry, stop!"

"Why should I, if you want me?"

"I-I-I… Henry, not here, not now!" Joey feebly protested, Henry's hand slipping under his suit and shirt. Goosebumps flared up on Joey's skin under his touches. "Ah! Henry, you need to stop!"

"No, I don't," Henry rebutted, his eyes half lidded. He grinned slowly, licking his lips hungrily. "You look so delectable and open… just for me."

"Stop!" Joey's voice was strained and frantic, but he couldn't find the strength to shove him away. "Henry, please, stop, I don't want this to happen this way, please, just stop!"

"So, do you want it or not?" Henry demanded. Joey whimpered. "Answer me, Johan!"

"N-not like this," he forced back tears. Henry blinked, backing up. Joey glanced up at him, then to the floor, ashamed, scrubbing at his face. "Shit, I'm sorry Henry…."

He began crying, covering his face with his hands.

"I can't even let you have what I want to give you…."

He pulled his knees to his chest, curling up.

"I'm ruined, Henry… surely you could find someone better."

Henry stared at the paralyzed man.

"O-or maybe you're choosing me be-because you know I'm weak…."

Joey let out a hiccuping sob.

"I'm so weak… and so tired… Henry. Don't do this to yourself… find someone who can be good to you…."

Henry cupped his cheeks and wiped away his tears with his thumbs. Joey couldn't meet his eyes.

"Is that what you think of yourself?" Henry asked quietly. "Not good? Weak? Ruined?"

Joey hesitated, refusing to look at him.

"Isn't that what I am?" he murmured, pushing down his legs, his not working, useless legs. "I'm worthless. Surely this company would do better in anyone else's hands, but _noo_ , I'm being selfish and not letting go because I have a sliver of hope that this is right. But I know that hope is wrong. Grant would do better, Bertrum would do better, you would do better, hell, Jack would do better!"

Henry gaped at him.

"Don't look so surprised, Henry," Joey chuckled hollowly. "I'm virtually useless. Unnecessary. A burden."

"Stop," Henry breathed in chastization. "Shut up. That's not true."

"Give me one reason it's not true," Joey challenged, grinning cruelly. "I'm a liar, and pathetic, and defective, and paralyzed, and a thief, and a murderer, for fuck's sake, I'm all seven deadly sins! I'm prideful that I built this company, I'm greedy for the acknowledgment, I'm envious of Bertrum's genius, I'm a glutton for punishment, I constantly am driven by my anger and wrath, I'm so lazy my legs stopped working, and I fucking lust, lust _continuously_ , lust after you! Every night, I go home and dream of you, every day I see you and my heart beats and stops, every second you're around me I want to be in your arms and I want to hear your voice every moment, but I'm… I'm not good enough. I'm not good at all… I'm all bad."

"Johan, that's not right," Henry studied him, searching him for any sign of lying. He was not lying. "Please tell me that's not what you say to yourself…."

Joey choked on his tears, them breaking free of his eyes and streaming down his face in a torrent.

"It's all true," he cried, covering his mouth. Henry grabbed his face, staring into his eyes for one moment. "Henry… I'm awful… anyone is better than me."

"Not for me," Henry affirmed, and pressed his lips to his mouth. Good god, he should have done this years ago. Joey moaned, wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "You'll always be good to me, Johan."

"I love you," Joey sobbed, his whole body shuddering. "Henry Stein, I fucking love you, I love you, I love you, please, don't love me, love someone better than me, you deserve better, Henry, Henry, Henry…."

"I love you."

Joey cried harder, little 'no's escaping his lips against Henry's.

Henry pulled away after what felt like an eternity. Joey's face was red and blotchy, and he was shaking with tears. Henry hugged him, a bit awkwardly because of the wheelchair, but hugged him nonetheless. He kissed the side of Joey's neck and his shoulder. Joey could only let out a shuddering sob.

Henry pulled back to kiss his forehead.

"Come to my place after work, and I'll treat you to a restaurant dinner," he smiled at Joey's shocked face. "What, it's not like I wasn't going to ask you out to dinner first."

Joey laughed a little. Henry grinned softly.

"See you tonight," he murmured in his ear. Joey blushed, smiling at him gently. "First date, alright? How did you say it earlier? Don't get ideas?"

"Don't get the wrong idea," Joey corrected in an echo, biting his lip to try and conceal his grin. "But for once in your life Stein, I think you have the right one."

"Ah, Johan, I always have the right idea!" he laughed, his mirth infection and making Joey giggle, blushing like a schoolgirl. "Just not always at the right time, like this one."

"Oh?" Joey cocked an eyebrow, eyes twinkling. "When is the right time, perchance?"

"When I met you," Henry hummed. Joey covered his face, trying to hide his incredulous smile. "But I'm having oh _so **right**_ other ideas at the wrong time right now…."

"Really now, are you?" Joey chuckled, blissfully unaware at what the animator meant. Henry smirked and nodded. "Am I privileged to know when the sort of ideas you are planning will be at the right time?"

"Oh, they involve you alright," Henry's gaze looked over him greedily. His breathing stuttered at the hungry glint in Henry's eyes. "The right time is in a few hours, and the right place is in my bed, and the right words are 'perfect' and 'right there'."

Joey blushed heavily. Henry smirked, blowing him a kiss.

"Come at six thirty!" he called, leaving the office. "Don't be late, Johan!"

Joey was definitely not late, received with open arms and a kiss.


End file.
